I reluctantly agreed to let Alan drive me home. We remained silent throughout the journey. I didn't want to glance at him even once. He was the same, focused on driving. Tears wouldn't stop flowing. I tried to hold them back but couldn't. I was too fragile. My life was shattered, my future bleak. What else could I do?
"Here." Alan offered a tissue. I just looked at it, unwilling to take it. Then I turned back to the car window, looking away.
I heard Alan sigh. "I will take responsibility," he muttered, breaking the silence between us.
"I don't need you to take responsibility!" I harshly wiped my tears, responding to Alan's statement.
That's what he wanted, after all. To get me in a deceitful way.
"I swear to God, Shaira. I don't remember anything, and I don't remember what I did to yo
